Even as frail as he looks, laying there, tubes protruding out of his nose. He seems at peace with realization it?s almost over. Though all skin and bone, the sickness eating away at him I?m not disgusted. A silence fills a room full of people all at a loss of words. And tears as always threaten to spill. He opens his eyes and despite him dying they reveal life. They show a man wise of the years. A man who not only created beauty and joy with his hands but with his charm. A man loved by all he encountered and captured the hearts of many with his non-stop humor. They show a man who has accepted God wants to take him home, to the heavens above. All too soon those eyes that expressed more than years worth of words could , shut again and he begins to convulse. The children flee the room as the adults begin to administer his drugs, and the only thing tying him to our world. His words spoken days before haunt ?Singing..They sing to me? me the familiar sting of tears burns behind my eyes. Realization strikes me like a slap and he goes limp. It?s time to let him go.
Tribute to my Pop-pop
February 23, 2009